The Pains of Reminiscing
by Mediocrates
Summary: When her cancer relapses and she's left with a month to live, an old friend comes back to see Hazel. Hazel, swamped in nostalgia, writes a letter to the late Augustus Waters as she finally realizes what it was like for him. One-shot, took chap. two down.


**Hello, my dear and fellow fangirls. This is my first ever story, so please, come at me with the criticism. Reviews are gold.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Fault In Our Stars. If I did, it would have ended very differently.**

It was about a year after Gus's death that the Phalanxifor stopped working on me, and I felt really guilty because I was _glad _for it. Sure, I was sad because I would never see my parents or friend(s) ever again. But in the same instance I was filled with this surreal giddiness at the fact that I would be joining Augustus Waters in capital-S Somewhere in just a few weeks' time. I wouldn't have to deal with turning around and not seeing his face by mine, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth and melancholy. I would no longer have to deal with laughing (or, with the cancer in my shit lungs, wheezing good-naturedly) at jokes he didn't make.

Dying is scary. Scary is an epidemical understatement, I know, but I was terrified for the impending expanse of unknown. I suddenly understood Gus's fear of oblivion; the fact that I could just dissolve into nothingness after only seventeen years of existence made me weak at the knees. Except I was always weak at the knees, and everywhere else too. This was a side effect of cancer, and cancer was a side effect of dying. And that sucked. But as much as dying sucked, it sucked more to have a child dying, as my parents came to learn. My doctor informed me and my parents that I had approximately one month to live. And I'll never forget how my father started wailing louder than a howler monkey, and my mother stared at me in shock with tears running down her face at the speed of sound. I started crying too, not for me, but for them. I think I wasn't scared of me myself dying; I was scared of how it would affect everyone else. I was making my scars.

Somewhere around three days after learning The Big News, the nurse came in. "Hazel!" she said. "Your friend—what's your name hon?—your friend Isaac is here!"

I sat up a little straighter. Isaac had gone MIA after Augustus's funeral. I hadn't seen him in months. How did he find out about my cancer? I hadn't gone to Support Group—oh, it was probably Gus's parents. They'd kind of become his surrogate family from what they'd told me. Isaac came shuffling in, his cane poking the ground in front of him to compensate for his blindness. "Hazel?" he asked.

"I'm right here, Isaac." My voice wavered.

He abandoned the cane and felt around until he found the foot of my hospital bed. Hesitantly, he sat down, his gaze focused on what I'm sure was what he thought was where my face was. Gnawing on his lip, he asked, "So, how are you faring? No, forget I asked that. That was a retarded question; you're dying, of course you're not fine. God, this is awkward. Oh, damn, I intensified the awkwardness when I said that, didn't I? Damn, damn, damn, I wish I could see people's expressions. Damn."

I smiled, and since he couldn't see that, giggled softly. "'I'm on a rollercoaster that only goes up, my friend,'" I said, quoting a certain Augustus. I wiped the tears from my eyes as I said the same words he had said. The action belied my words.

"Are you crying?" Isaac asked. Before I could ask how he knew, he continued, "I guess my senses finally got used to being four, because I have, like, super-hearing. I could hear you crying. It's pretty cool."

"Seems cool," I said, purposefully avoiding the question. "How's your life going?"

"Well, the administrator at the front desk asked the same question and I said, 'Oh I'm peachy, how about you?' and the woman said, 'I feel incomplete; I just broke up with my boyfriend' or something like that, I was like, 'Yeah, I always feel like that, because I literally am incomplete because I have no eyes' and she didn't really respond. So yeah, Hazel, I feel incomplete. I feel physically, emotionally, metaphorically, and mentally incomplete for a variety of reasons. Reason one: I'm blind. Reason two: my only two friends are biting it from cancer." I felt a little flattered that I was qualified as Isaac's friend. I guess when two people lose someone as resonate as Augustus was, it was the kind of relationship that didn't die.

"I know. Me too. I mean, in addition to feeling like personified dog shit, I can't get over Gus. I know it's been a year since he died, but I feel like my pain just intensifies as time goes on."

"Exactly!" We went on like this for a long time, just talking about Isaac's school and Gus and how Monica came crawling back to him but he declined her sorry ass. Eventually he had to leave, and again I was alone. I finally asked for a laptop. They didn't ask why I wanted it, which was nice. My mother gave me the one I always used to use. And this is where I wrote my goodbye to Gus, because I was feeling nostalgic and I was actually too lethargic to write with a pencil on paper.

It read:

_Dear Augustus Waters,_

_I understand you will never read this, and this is just a dying girl's delusion. But I just need something physical to represent how much I loved you, how much I still love you. There aren't appropriate words to describe how much I care for you. My love, cheesy as it sounds, could metaphorically (you loved your metaphors) be used to power a machine that shifted the trajectory of the planet Jupiter. God, I never said that enough. I love you, Augustus. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I would write that more except cancer's being a bitch and I can barely type. That doesn't change how I feel for you._

_I don't think you understood just how wonderful you were. Are. You are gorgeous, and witty, and intelligent, and rebellious, and sweet, and caring, and giving, and funny, and I will appropriately reiterate gorgeous. I remember the time when you took me on a picnic and organized that whole Amsterdam-themed meal. It tasted horrible, but the fact that I shared it with you and only you made it one of the best moments of my life. All of the best moments of my life occurred with you. You as a whole were the best part of my life. Shh, don't tell my parents._

_I am getting weaker by the minute, but this isn't about me. I'm dying anyway, a little discomfort shouldn't matter in the scheme of things. I think the only one that understands the extent of my feelings is you, because you reciprocated them. I am the luckiest girl in the world, Augustus Waters, you know that? I am so lucky, because I am seventeen years old, have had cancer for around four years now, but I knew you for those few months. You deserved to live a fuller life, but you don't want my pity, I know. As vain as this will sound, I pity myself. I pity myself for having to exist in a world without you for another month. Yeah, my shit lungs decided that they needed to screw up my life even more as they make a cancer-tastic relapse. But you understand how this feels._

_I don't want you to think you were a grenade, because you _weren't. _Everyone who ever met you is so lucky to have just talked to you, and this grief is just, like, payment for knowing you. And if I had to choose, I would never choose to take any of it back. I can't bring myself to want to forget you. You are too special to be forgotten, Gus. I wish I could tell you that in person. I. Can't. Forget. You. I can't forget the way you insisted on calling me Hazel Grace, the way you could have charmed the pants off Adolf Hitler, the way your laugh seemed to roll off you in these infatuating waves, the way you put others before yourself, the way you flirted, the confidence you emitted._

_You didn't leave scars, Augustus Waters. You healed my wounds._

_With all love,_

_Hazel Grace Lancaster_

_PS: Okay?_


End file.
